


What Is and What Should Never Be

by toewsyourheart



Series: supernatural au [2]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossroads Deals & Demons, Death and Revival, M/M, Prequel, Soul Selling, Supernatural AU - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-06-28
Packaged: 2018-07-18 17:10:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7323709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toewsyourheart/pseuds/toewsyourheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“My family is everything,” Patrick breathes out, a reminder of why he’s doing this in the first place. </p><p>“You’ll never be with them again either way,” the demon says, voice coolly harsh.</p><p>“I—I know." </p><p>-</p><p>Patrick falls.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Is and What Should Never Be

**Author's Note:**

> Prequel set in Southern Ireland, 1793. 
> 
> Patrick is twenty-five.
> 
> -
> 
> title taken from spn season two.

 

Patrick arrives at the crossroads in the early morning, a few hours before sunrise. The air is sticky and humid, clammy on his pale skin, with a light breeze that carries the familiar smell of a chimney fire burning nearby. He scans the dimly lit road in all directions, but aside from the occasional hooting owl and chirping cricket, Patrick finds he’s alone, the land and its inhabitants peaceful and quiet.

He is neither, standing on unsteady legs and wringing out trembling hands after dropping his trowel and trinket box to the ground with a clang. The noise cuts through the silence, but once it settles again, all that’s left is the sound of Patrick’s grief—sniffling and hitching breaths, memories of his own screams ringing in his ears—and that moment, replaying over and over.

There’s nothing to distract from it other than the sharp, smoky scent of charred wood filling his nose, and the desperate hope that he can reverse this. Patrick’s read the demon myths, practically memorized the lore book kept hidden beneath the floorboard of his childhood bedroom. He knows exactly how this works; now, he needs someone on the other side to follow through. 

Patrick gets to his knees, and as he carefully buries the box, he experiences a moment of paralyzing fear. Not fear of who or what might answer his call, but fear of going back to that farm with things as they are; so, he presses forward and stands to recite the summons, holding his breath while he waits. 

And waits. 

“Please,” Patrick beseeches hoarsely, gripping at the cross pendant around his neck until it hurts, a silent prayer to the wrong party. He’s unsure of how much time elapses, squeezing his eyes closed as fresh tears begin to fall. “Please, come,” he repeats, but there’s still nothing, no one, and he only grows more anxious with each passing second. 

“I’ll do anything,” he whispers, and opens his eyes to see a woman instantly appear before him—a gorgeous woman with dark, long hair and eyes that flash a deep, crimson red. She’s predictably dressed in black, her expression set in an alluring smirk. 

“Well, hello,” she greets, and Patrick opens his mouth to respond, but no words come. His first coherent thought, though painful, is that her hair resembles Jessica’s. 

“A-Are—” 

“Time is of the essence, sunshine,” she urges, unimpressed with the delay. 

“You’re a demon,” he swallows, a half-question at its most convincing. 

She chuckles, and though a pleasant sound, it only makes Patrick more fearful of her. “You desired one, yes?” 

“Yes, my—my family,” Patrick chokes, bile rising as he recalls the horrors of the previous day: returning from travel to discover his mother and father, his three sisters—all lifeless, lying on a makeshift bed in the largest room of their home, huddled together in death. “There was nothing I could—” 

“Nothing you could do?” the demon scoffs. “There’s never anything to be done at the time, is there? Only scrambling to pick up the pieces after.” 

“Please,” Patrick pleads again, her words like a kick to the stomach. “I’ve just lost them.” 

“And you’ve summoned me to save them?” 

Patrick nods, throat itching and dry. 

“Tragic,” she replies in faux sympathy, then her eyes narrow deceptively. “Why should I?” 

“Isn’t that, what you do?” he asks, confused. 

“What I do,” the demon starts, “is collect souls for hell, with efficiency. Five souls saved for one soul gained doesn’t qualify.” 

“So you can’t save them?” Patrick presses, panic creeping into his voice, face red and palms sweaty.

“Not can’t, won’t,” she clarifies, and Patrick feels anger sparking inside him at the unfairness of it all.

“Then why did you come?” he snaps, “If you knew you wouldn’t help me?”

“Mind yourself, child,” she rebukes, irises flicking from amber to menacing red, her tone inciting a frightened shiver down Patrick’s back. “I’m here because your insistent wailing colored you the type to sweeten the offer and convince me.” 

“Sweeten the offer?” Patrick questions. 

“You said _anything_ ,” the demon shrugs, dismissive, as if Patrick’s anything means nothing to her. “I heard you.” 

Patrick wracks his brain for what she could be after; the demon wants souls, he’s offering his—what else does she need? 

“You want me to—to choose between them? Bring back some and not others to tip the score?” He feels sick saying it, thinking to decide between his mother and father and his siblings; he’d die a thousand deaths before doing it. 

“Let me paint a picture for you, sunshine—everyone is dying…from famine, disease, war. If it’s a soul hell’s after, hell doesn’t have far to look, and a decade’s delay for yours at a time like this, frankly, isn’t good business.” The demon sighs at Patrick’s prolonged silence and emphatically adds, “Your deal is lacking in return.” 

Her voice is leading, and her eyes are pointed as she looks him over.

Patrick catches on quickly. 

“Take me now,” he blurts, and the wicked smile that graces her face in response tells Patrick he got it right. “You can have me, I’ll collect for you. Just save them.” 

“Hmm, those baby blues and bouncy curls _are_ suited well for negotiating,” she remarks, considering, as if this wasn’t her plan from the onset. “Are you certain it’s worth it? Giving up everything for five humans already collected by Death?” 

“My family _is_ everything,” Patrick breathes out, a reminder of why he’s doing this in the first place. 

“You’ll never be with them again either way,” the demon says, voice coolly harsh. “They’ll think you’ve abandoned them, never to return.” 

“I—I know,” Patrick stutters, pained by the truth of it. His family will think he died on the road, or that he found better to the North and simply decided not to come back for them. 

“Such a martyr, you are,” she grins, and Patrick can sense she finds it pathetic even before she confirms it. “It’ll pass with your soul.” 

The demon says the word with disdain, as if having your humanity intact is the worst thing in the world; Patrick idly wonders how long she’s been without hers, but more importantly— 

“Will you save them?” 

“Will _you_?” she counters. 

The choice is his: sacrifice himself now and continue in darkness, or save himself and remain in darkness of a different kind, without his family? It’s an easy decision; Patrick needs them to carry on, with or without him. 

“I will,” he confirms, squaring his shoulders defiantly and clenching his hands into fists. 

“The King is going to love you,” she says proudly, stepping into Patrick’s space. “But the answer I’m looking for, is ‘yes’. You must always wait for it.” 

Patrick feels as though his heart is going to beat from his chest, standing this close to her, unsure of what’s to come. He began this conversation hoping he’d get his family back, with years to spare with them, and now his time is up. He wipes his eyes and sets his jaw, resigning himself to his fate: he’s just learned his first lesson in crossroads etiquette. 

“Yes,” he says, and the demon grins approvingly. 

“Good boy,” she praises, leaning into him and tilting up her chin. “All that’s left is a kiss.” 

She waits for Patrick to close the distance, but he doesn’t; he can’t move, paralyzed with thoughts of things left undone and unseen—thoughts of his family. 

“Make me do all the lifting then, sunshine,” she winks, wrapping a hand around the back of his neck to drag him down, and just before their lips meet, Patrick stops her, his resolve fraying at the edges. 

“Wait, can I see them? Alive? Just once before I—” 

“You don’t trust I’ll uphold my end?” she interjects, voice teetering toward offended. 

“I do, I just—please,” Patrick begs. “Just once.” 

“I’m afraid it’s not possible,” the demon explains, deflating his last bit of hope. “Your family will remain dead until the moment the deal is done.” 

Patrick swallows, eyes stinging as he blinks back tears, and accepts the inevitable. He will never see his family as a human again, and after this, only God knows if there will be any recognizable part of him left. 

He takes a deep breath and, in the face of his fear, reminds himself that this is the only way to save them. There are no other options, so he steels himself and says, “Do it.” 

“As you wish,” she murmurs, breath tickling Patrick’s skin. 

The demon presses their lips together hard, twisting her fingers in his curls as they kiss, and Patrick feels change overtake him from within, the light of his soul seeping out, painful and searing, until there’s nothing but a dark, settled evil and ice pumping through his veins. 

Patrick gasps as they separate, heat radiating from his body in a way that’s unnatural for the living. He feels unhinged, vicious, and bitterly detached; and he can’t see his own eyes, but Patrick knows they’re a fiery red, a reflection of those staring knowingly back at him.

“Still want to see your family?” she asks, corner of her mouth pulling up in a smug smile.

His family? Patrick can barely spare a second thought for them at the moment.

“No,” he answers flatly, and despite the truth of it, he feels a slight twinge of something like guilt, a flash of meaning in the emptiness from way down deep.

It’s easy to ignore.

**Author's Note:**

> i pictured the crossroads demon here as dayna seabrook. lol. 
> 
> come find me on [tumblr](http://toewsme1988.tumblr.com)!


End file.
